


ECHOES

by florenc



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, dream - Fandom, mcyt
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Blood and Violence, DreamSMP - Freeform, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Prison, Prisoner!Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florenc/pseuds/florenc
Summary: He has left her to fend for her own, although unwillingly, she no longer has the comfort of his safety net running below her. She sits by the entrance of the portal that leads to him, desperate for a way to bring him home. The echoes of wailing obsidian are burned into her mind.(Dream/Reader, no use of y/n, set in DreamSMP universe.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 66





	1. PAGE ONE

"There's nothing you can do for him, love." A firm hand landed on her shoulder, effectively bouncing along as it caught ahold of her trembling body. She was sat on her knees, both hands gripping onto the warm base of the obsidian portal, still smothering as the guard had hastily suffocated the purple flames before her eyes. "There's nothing you could've done."

She contemplated staying quiet, letting her sobs tell her story for her. Instead, she opted for a simple, "You're a liar, Sam."

A dry, but genuine, chuckle left his lips at her remark as he crouched to her height. His hand unclenched by his side, reaching over to tuck a piece of her hair back behind her ear. "We're getting you home now, okay?"

She nodded into his palm, closing her eyes in hopes of just forgetting for a second. To no avail obviously, as soon as her lids enclosed over her teary eyes all she saw was _him_. Him screaming and trashing in their hold, trying his utter best to get them to release him for just _one more minute_. Barking her name, assuring her that he would be fine and that he'd see her soon. 

The absolute look of terror in his eyes had given him away though, she knew immediately that this was no ordinary case of civil unrest. His pupils were drowning in sorrow as Tommy continuously threatened not only his but her life, as well. Niki held her sobbing body in her gentle arms, cocooning her from the harsh reality of circumstances. Her normally tender voice was now harsh against the teen, her tone cold as she scolded him, "Tommy, leave her be."

Before Tommy could retaliate, Dream's voice had echoed through the base, warning the young blonde with absolute venom laced in his tone, "Watch your _fucking_ mouth, Tommy." He grunted as a harsh punch was catapulted into his stomach, "Before I make sure no one knew Philza even had any sons _to begin with_."

Another wail escaped her lips, she was terrified about what was going to happen to him, maybe even more so _than_ him. They handled him like a dog with untreated rabies, she'd seen them maneuver a goddamn war criminal with more humanity than him. Sapnap trailed to the front of the group, anxiously shaking his axe against his thigh rhythmically. He was the first to succumb to the dark violet flares. He stood with his head facing the stone, too ashamed to even glance at her, to see the tremble in her lips as he took away the one thing that had assured her safety. His body disintegrated in mere seconds, right before they hoisted Dream's beaten body onto the platform. Niki had caressed her hair as the men slowly dripped out of the room, now only filling it with her silent sobs and the ticking of George's boots as he anxiously paced behind them, the two of them so desperately wanting to just _turn back time_.

Sam was a good person, she knew that. She was rational enough to realize that he was not the reason for her love being locked up, he was not the sole culprit; if even any. He lifted her from the flushed floor, holding her waist as she steadied herself on her feet. She'd been sitting in the opening of the portal for hours on end, waiting for the flames to finally take her through. Alas, they wouldn't accept her into their hold, leaving her to quietly perish in her own guilt.

However, as he turned her body to face the exit of the small, broiling room, her eyes fell upon the men standing in the doorway. Ranboo stood first, shooting her a sympathetic smile as he gently pulled on the lead he was holding, urging for the donkey she had grown so attached to reveal itself. Then, Tubbo. Immediately he stepped forward to wrap her into his arms, whispering a soft apology into her hair. She slipped her eyes closed as soon as her body slotted into his small frame, allowing herself to get lost in his hug, granting herself a moment of feeble safety. 

As her eyes opened, though, they immediately landed on the boy. The one boy that had so viciously threatened her life, that had so instinctively violently assaulted her, as soon as the truth was revealed. Dream's truth, that is, she had no part in it whatsoever. Dream had been adamant about that, leaving her out of all of his plans. She'd only grown suspicious when he started insisting on her having a totem on her at _all times_ , even when going out for small tasks as replanting her crops. 

There was one moment that had opened her eyes to Dream's obvious deceit, that one afternoon where he'd promised to take her on one of his adventures, adventures he had been taking daily for weeks. He always went on his lonesome, promising her that she wasn't missing out on anything as well as that he would always safely return to her.

But then, then their horses trudged through the _snow_ , leaving the grasslands for tundra. They zigzagged through ragged treelines, avoiding large branches as well as hidden, frozen ponds. They stumbled upon a humble abode, threatening to get overshadowed by surrounding spruces and towering piles of snow. 

Before she knew it her donkey had been fastened to a nearby tree, her thick cloak hung on the wall, and a cup of tea pressed into her hands. Techno had always been terribly nice to her, she recognized as much, offering her home-cooked food and even upgraded armor for both her _and_ her donkey. However, he'd seemed to have forgotten that a donkey is in fact a _tad_ tinier than his enormous stallion, so in the end, it was more of a sweet gesture than anything else. He'd taken her outside to try and fit Bastard with at least some leg warmers, a rather fruitless attempt at best, but it was kind nonetheless.

When they had returned to the small living room, at last, there was not a single hint of life detectable in the entire cottage. He had left her, more so; he had left her in the hands of Technoblade. His sworn, life-long foe, was with whom he had left the love of his life. Which is when her mind puzzled together that there was a chance that there had never been a hidden initiative to protect the King, but who was she to try and interfere with _his_ business. She was safe and fed, and while Techno was _his_ foe, he certainly wasn't hers. 

Tommy stared into her gaze with widened pupils, his mouth slightly stammering, trying to think of anything to say. He stuttered over his words, making Tubbo retreat minimally from the hug to turn and shoot him a look. The blonde swallowed nervously as Sam muttered a soft, "Go on."

"Fine." His demeanor changed to fit his usual indifferent and nonchalant ambiance, "I am sorry for what I said. You are not a bitch and I shouldn't have said that I would gut your donkey."

"Bastard." She whispered softly, tears streaming down her face. He was a good kid, she knew that. And while he had played a ginormous part in the tragedy that had become her life, she recognized that he had been on the right side of history, she recognized that he was a child, and she recognized that she still loved him ever so dearly as before. She calmly opened her arms, not only to release Tubbo from her hold fully, but mostly to invite the scarred boy back into her life, "His name's Bastard."


	2. PAGE TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allowing insight into her relationship with Technoblade, as well as the deepening connection with her trusty steed. Caring hands peel her from the portal she has been frozen to, offering her a night of refuge.

Ever since she had first stepped foot within the realm, Bastard had been there right with her. He was the one to introduce her to her first broken bone and he was the one to, consequently, taxi her everywhere for the weeks following it. Bastard, or Prick as Tommy liked to call him, loved wandering around almost as much as she did. He used to trail out for miles and miles, not even bothering to shake off his gear as he left to follow wherever the river led him to. It'd gotten her late to several meetings and dinner dates, having to tell whatever crowd she had been entertaining that she was busy chasing her bronco donkey through a field of daisies.

No matter how often she'd have to excuse her timing or absence, she couldn't help but crack a smile anytime he had set her down in a puddle, or even a pond, as ungraciously as he often used to do. She could see it in his eyes, the mischief, the playfulness that danced in his verticated pupils. The taunting snorts as he trampled around her, barely out of her reach; purposefully dangling the end of his lead before her dancing feet.

No one ever really understood why she had taken such a liking to such a seemingly _mediocre_ companion, at best. The thing is, while he was an inefficient way of transport at best, he was anything she had ever hoped to wish for in a mere _pet_. He was a dickhead, he was hard-headed and at times, hot-headed, too. He was rather large for his kind, his draft-like hooves heavy on his feet so that he had no choice but to always fall in short when trotting next to these excellent, almost noble horses that most of their friends had acquainted themselves with. He had sturdy legs, healthy ones. And while he was a tad on the chunky side of the spectrum, his muscles were akin to those of a damned horse of war. He might've been fat and clumsy, but his build as well as his temperament made him certainly not a steed to be reckoned with.

Carl, on the contrary, was nothing short of the ace of his kind. Techno had spent ages upon ages breeding his ancestors, perfecting their every way, making sure to have his late filly be the most agile, most trustworthy, and most of all absolute gorgeous horse anyone could ever rest their eyes upon. He looked almost aerodynamic as he passed through the abandoned streets of the villages he raided, galloping as if he could simply glide away into the sky at any point. Carl, however, was a dim-witted pony at best. He was loyal, only because he had no mind of his own. He followed orders exquisitely flawlessly, were they to be advantageous or not.

Bastard would always be deemed the runt of the litter, no matter with whom the pair rode. However, the both of them were certainly aware of that. She didn't choose him for his athletic build nor his nimble feet, she chose him because no one else seemed to do it. No one else seemed to want to put the work in, even if he held worth of every penny in the end. She took a liking to him because for some reason she felt like he had believed the same of her, that first day she had planted herself on his back.

Coincidentally, the only person that had never mentioned the inferiority of her unyielding draft had been Techno. He has always been one to keep himself to higher standards than others, if anything he had complimented Bastard on numerous occasions. Always insisting on how stubbornness was a trait only awarded to the best of characters, how quick feet did nothing for you but make you run from your problems quicker. 

There was nothing that she had wanted more that day than to run away from it all, chase the inconsiderate prick that had dropped her on Techno's doorstep like a starved kitten. She wanted to do absolutely unspeakable things to him, and it gave her quite some comfort knowing that her host felt the exact same way, at least the first several days of her potentially contemporary stay.

"You can have my bed for the time being," Philza had assured her those weeks ago, carefully scooping a generous portion of stew into the bowl. "I'm sure we've got some spare clothes that'll fit you."

She hastily parted her lips to interject, terrified of having to kick the poor man out of his own bunk. She knew very well there was no way they would be letting her rest on the floor, they'd proven already to be the most generous, most kind hosts to her. Techno quickly beat her to it, though, not a single sound had escaped her lips before he stole the words right from her tongue, "Phil, don't be stupid. She'll have my bed."

He shoveled another spoonful of stew into his mouth, chomping down on it rather noisily. He hadn't even bothered to lift his head while he spoke, complete disinterest showing on his features. Her mouth was still stammering open and close, trying to find at least a middle-ground of some sorts. "You really don't have to."

"Heh." He exclaimed, his face sowing absolute amusement, even if his voice sounded as monotone as before. "You think I'm going to let you sleep with the rats?"

"No, but I don't want you to, either." She admitted sheepishly, still uncomfortable with the entire idea of having to stay with them for God knows how long. The thing is, no matter how kindhearted and considerate the two men were, it was very clear to the clique that this had not been an earlier discussed plan. Dream had been inconsiderate and irrational, entirely going off their good hearts and best interest, assuming wholly that they wouldn't just drop his girl back off in L'Manburg, or even worse; in the wilderness. The atmosphere had been thick, almost impenetrable as they had all come to the same realization.

This wasn't going to be for just a few days.

However, now she was no longer residing in the safety of Technoblade's abode, now she had no choice but to stride to wherever she was supposed to call home. From now on her every day was spent crying on the doorstep of the bastille that imprisoned the love of her life, and to spend every night on another friend's supplementary cot. So now, making her way back to another empty set of sheets, she couldn't help but mourn for him, losing his life in a way not even the most powerful potion, the most potent totem could reverse. 

The totem that had proven no use to him, slapped harshly against her thigh with every step the small club took, the leather strap it was suspended from was just a tad too long to have it bound to her thigh snugly. Its eyes were glowing faintly, not nearly comparable to the intensity as it had had when Dream had first gifted it to her. He has carefully sown it into a harness of kinds, attaching it to her sturdy, leather belt and adding another jagged strap to fasten around her thigh. He knew any less than that would result in either her losing it or throwing it in frustration, anytime it'd loosen itself enough to plummet to the floor.

Tommy's boots skidded against the planks every few meters, obviously not offering him quite enough grip as he'd hoped. Soft curse words left his lips anytime he'd slide an inch further than he had intended to, earning suppressed chuckles from both Sam and Tubbo from where they marched behind her. Sam cleared his throat loudly, trying to both clear his throat and announce his following words, "Would you like to stay with me and Tubbo for the night?"

Before she could decline the kind offer, Tommy had already interfered with the conversation, "Or with me, _Sam_ , maybe she would like to stay with _me_."

"Tommy, you don't even own another bed." Tubbo genuinely added in disbelief, earning a chuckle from both her and Sam.

"So?" Tommy had now started walking backward, probably hoping that aggressive eye contact would have Tubbo yield his arguments. It worked; like it did most of the times he had done so, and thus the blonde continued, "She can stay with me if she wants."

"That's okay, Tommy." She lifted her hand to press against his forearm gently, landing a soft squeeze on it as she continued, "Sam's home is closer to the prison, anyway."

"Well, of course, it's _his_ fucking prison-" A kick against his shin made him stumble, but before he could retaliate against his brunette brother, the words echoed through his head; clicking at last. "Oh. _Dream_ , right."


	3. PAGE THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her two watchful, teenage guardians come along, bearing good news. Realization hits as she mentions her oblivion on her lover's corruption.

It felt weird staying in the same house, sleeping under the same roof with the man that kept her from seeing the love of her life. It was an off, almost eerie feeling to sit at the same breakfast table, walk the same path, only to be ripped apart by the schism of reality as soon as the purple flames entranced him.

We entered the portal room together, however this time she didn't even try to slip through the flames, today it felt different. Today it felt disrespectful, shameful even, to try and undermine Sam's authority, to plead for a last chance to see _him_.

But then, again, who was she if not Dream's keeper? Why should she not keep trying, simply out of fear of putting shame on a man, a man she didn't even know? She sat on her knees against the side of the portal, her head pressed to the extinguished obsidian in complete and utter delirium. Perhaps, if she pressed her face against the stone hard enough it would read her mind, see her most intimate desires, and then _maybe_ it would feel the utter misery and sorrow coursing through her veins, and maybe then it would ultimately grant her admittance to its contemporary realm.

It was a foolish way to look at any hindrance, to think that escaping through that portal would wondrously dissipate all of our existing and coming problems. That suddenly Sam would buckle and allow entree to the entirety of his jail, out of what? Sheer respect for her persistence?

She had no choice but to believe in fairytales, she had nothing going for her but being on the favoring side of the whim. The wrong side of history, but perhaps the right side of enchantment.

Our story was a tale of wicked desire, blinded admiration and puzzled stares. Nights where nothing but her own wails could lull her to sleep, and nights where we danced to the sound of our own laughter. Nights where she fell asleep in another man's arms, and nights where she realized they would never feel like his.

The pattering of feet on wet planks, squeaky boots on slippery pathways. Meaningless banter and bickering, and at last silence, as they entered the room. The pair looked almost identical, their rounded faces, sloppy haircuts, stained shirts, and shimmering glints of hope residing in their pupils. They stood silently alongside each other, blocking the doorway completely with their slim but towering bodies. Cheeky smiles were pulling at their lips, Tubbo's eyes shooting to look at Tommy every once in a while. Tommy kept his blank stare ahead, however, his smile was only growing by the second. "Hey, _woman_."

She still sat on her knees, her entire body facing into the obsidian gateway, except for her head, which was curiously turned towards the boys. she muttered a soft greeting, her face distorted into pure confusion as the both of them stayed silent for another fifteen seconds or so. Then the taller blonde spoke up again, "I'm opening a hotel."

"Oh," She pursed her lips a little, turning her head sideways like a 'lost puppy-dog', as Dream used to call it. "That's amazing, Tommy."

"Yeah!" His voice was rough with animation, he bopped his head in enthusiasm. "Will you come to the opening?"

"I mean I-," she tried, fluttering her gaze to look at the patterned tiling of the floor, the patterns she had learned by heart by now, she could carve it her own damn self a million times over. The sheer amount of time she had spent memorizing the almost mosaic-like impression in the ashy slates was truly pathetically astonishing. "Tommy I don't know.."

"What? You can't just _not_ come!" He exclaimed in frustration, his hands balling at his sides in sheer irritation.

"No, that's unacceptable!" The smaller brunette quickly interjected, disappointment clear in the mere way his pupils roamed mine. "He built you an entire hotel! I've never seen him work this hard in _his life_."

Tommy sputtered from beside him, roughly elbowing his brother into his side, earning him a loud hiss. "I mean, Tubbo! My man, I wouldn't say I built it _for_ her." His eyebrows were raised almost dramatically as he directed his gaze to an imaginary ceiling of ideas, he pursed his lips in concentration before quickly adding, "No, I am simply a capitalist. I love _money_ so much I built a hotel to get even _more_ of it."

She offered them a polite smile, naturally accepting their offer. Tommy, her Tommy, built an entire hotel. Little Tommy who thought gathering sticks was too big of a task for his five-year-old self. Little Tommy who slept on clothes when he couldn't be bothered to walk all the way from his closet to his bed, little Tommy who had Tubbo carry his every belonging when they went exploring the most dangerous of caveways.

"The _grande opening_ of _hôtel_ Tommy _,_ " He feigned a terrible French accent, "will be tomorrow at _noon_."

His smile fell from his face as he met her shameful eyes. Noon. The one time the guards would leave their posts, the one time a day where the portal would be set aflame right in front of her desperate, pathetically hopeful eyes. She let tears brim her irises, immediately threatening to spill from their hold as she let the idea of missing the one lone slot of seeing him again engulf her mind. But then she let the tears fall, and as they fell on the ashy tiles, they weren't unaccompanied. Right in front of her, two more sets of soft sorrows were sent flying onto the harsh ground. A faint voice, vulnerable as it spoke, "We miss you.."

"I know, little T," She assured him, quickly rising to her feet. Her body slung itself around his not-so-tiny torso, wrapping her arms around his neck, soft sobs sounded from within the safe barrier her arms had created around him, "I know, but he needs me."

"Listen up." Tommy's tone was rough, almost aggressive. His hand grabbed her arm, pulling her away from his brother, instantly coming to stand in front of him in a feeble attempt of asserting dominance, "If everyone is too pussy to tell you, then I will."

She crossed her arms in front of her, trying to hold herself up, trying so desperately to not let his harsh words bite away at the little dignity she had left. Tommy was honest, he had always been brutally so. But she recognized very early upon meeting him, that the times you wanted nothing less than to listen to his bittersharp words, were the times you needed to hear them most. "He doesn't care about you."

"If he cared about you he would've put you down there with the rest, he would have had you exiled with me. He doesn't, not enough at least. He's a miserable prick who deserves rotting away in there." He spat at her, his index finger dangerously close to pricking itself into her aching heart. His gaze soon softened as he noticed her knees buckle and eventually give out as her sobs enclosed her in their restrictive, asphyxiating hold. Tubbo instantly let himself fall around her quivering body, running his gentle hands over her back as he looked up at his older brother, utter panic influencing his pitch, "Tommy?"

"Tommy, I don't think anyone's told her what he did."


	4. PAGE FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth of Dream's immorality is shown to her, however, Tommy's inability to speak of his actions make her skeptical. A strain is put on their almost familial relationship, leaving her alone once again.

"Tubbo?" She cried out, craning her neck to meet his eyes, finding them drowning in tears, desperately scouring her face for a hint of mercy. For a hint of clemency. " _Tubbo_?!" A harsh sob shook her entire body in his arms, deafening whimpers escaping her lips, however, her voice fell from its octave, changing tones as rapid as a star could fall from the night's sky, suddenly meek, vulnerable, barely above a whisper, "Tubbo? Tubbo, what did he do?"

"Tommy, I'm not sure-" He looked up at his brother, tightening his hold around the trembling woman. Tears were now streaming down his cheeks, his voice was trembling with sheer misery, and her heart ached at the idea that she had been the cause of his pain. The blonde fell to his knees beside the two of them, reaching his hand to place upon the back of her shoulder, letting the pad of his thumb slowly caress a sense of ease into her. 

"He took _things_ from people." His voice was gentle as he started, tame and tender as she let his words jumble into her mind. She closed her eyes in pure focus, trying to make things _make sense_. "He took things that people cared about."

"Like.. Like what?" She fluttered her eyes open to meet his, having two soft, Louis-blue irises glance back at her. The normal rough edge that surrounded his stare had now abandoned his baby blues. His mouth sputtered open and closed a few times, once again averting his gaze to the ceiling, scouring the upper corner of the room in hopes of finding her an answer that wouldn't entirely break whatever little she had left of a spirit.

"Pets, mostly. Henry and mars were there," He met her grief-stricken face again, red streaks where the continuous stream of tears had carved their path in her skin. The biting nature of the cruel root of her wails had meandered a lugubrious path along the curves of her face, an almost acidic nature to the disconsolate weeps that followed the carved out banks. "He wanted to lock up people in there as well."

"Did he?" She looked up at him through wet lashes, her mouth parted as she tried steadying her breaths. 

"He was going to!" Tommy immediately defended, trying to just have a single event or _fact_ stick to her thick, ignorant mind. 

"So you guys locked him up forever, all because he _wanted_ to lock people up?" She raised her voice at them significantly, now suddenly pushing herself, stumbling towards the portal. She raised her hand to steady herself on the side of it, "How does that make sense?"

The brunette had stayed silent for a while, however, when he saw Tommy nervously swallow around his tongue, he noticed his clammy hands hang limply beside his body. The sweat beads that started to form on the blonde's forehead, and most importantly he saw the purest form of panic retackle his friend, right in front of his eyes. "He did things to Tommy, when he exiled him." His tone was carefully fabricated, attentive to not cause any more strain on the two very unstable friends he held in front of him. 

"Tubby, YOU were the one to exile him!" Her ingenuine laughter rang through their ears like a promise of war, she had never been this mean, this harsh with her words. Not to them, and definitely not to Tubbo. Her dry chuckle was like a dagger, plunging itself into their hearts. However, it was sharpened on both sides, the harsher she would push it into their kind, merciful torso's, the deeper it would immerse itself into her own chest.

"I did, and I regret it every day." Another tear slipped down his cheek silently, his head turned down to meet the floor, "But I didn't do those things to him."

"What things?" She hastily moved her head to face Tommy, not having caught the words the first time the brunette had spilled them from his lips. "What did he do, Tommy?"

Absolute silence from the trembling boy, nothing but hasty panic as she continued, "Tommy, did he touch you?"

"No," He nervously swallowed, quick to protect himself from useless accusations, "No, nothing happened. He was my friend." His eyes shot across the room, from side to side, multiple times; desperately trying to find a way to ground himself, something to keep him from falling into the abyss he had stumbled himself into many times before. He met Tubbo's soft eyes, a faint smile with a nod, he knew his brother would never be angry with him, he would never be disappointed when he misspoke or when he felt entirely confused about what had befallen him during all those weeks, those months where the realm gently spun him in his own mind, gradually turning him into his own insanity, "He was not my friend."

"What is it, Tommy? What happened?" She stepped towards him, reaching her hands to place themselves around his hot cheeks, "You can tell me."

"He's a horrible person, and I _hate_ him." He spat back at her, but she knew very well it wasn't directed at her, she had nothing to do with the hatred pooling in his drowning eyes. Right now he was furious at himself; he was antagonized by his own, bitter naiveness. He loathed himself for allowing this man to make play with him the way he did, to turn him absolutely mad, borderline insane. To make him fraternize with the enemy, to almost have him take his own friends' futures from them.

"I'm sorry for what he did to you, Tommy," She offered him a somber smile, never quite reaching her eyes anymore. "But I can't do anything if I don't know what he did to you."

And as the tall blonde stayed quiet, the tears pattering down on his worn boots had never been louder. As the tall blonde stayed quiet, there had never been a time where the tiny brunette had wanted to scream louder. 

"Will you at least be there tomorrow?" His voice was entirely broken, beaten down a little more by every letter that escaped her lips. He knew enough as her eyes averted themselves from his, as her hands fell from where they brushed away his angry tears, because as soon as they turned from outraged to defeated tears; they bit down on her fingers. They were like acid to her touch, burning down the shell she had built for herself in rapidly increasing speed, the almost dissolvable liquid corroding everything she had spent months creating for herself, here in this portal room. This godforsaken room she had involuntarily exiled herself to. The image of his teary face constricted itself around her neck, slowly squeezing every last bit of hope from her body. She could handle hateful, fuming, Tommy, but there was no way somber, beaten-down Tommy wouldn't chip away at her heart forever. 

The interaction was louder than any words had been before, the brunette could physically hear the pair's hearts break, the wailing obsidian listening in on the tragic conversation was screaming at the silence. It had been a miserable stone for decades, created by the impenetrable differences of two life forces, it had sat decades listening to sobbing queens and dying horses. It had heard cheers of joy as another king had lost his head, but nothing elated him more than a mother losing her son. It had echoed howls and amplified the most agonizing of screams, but never had it felt the pain it had done in that moment. 

A promise of endless, unfathomable, indefinite love; broken at the volume of a gust of wind, broken by the hushed absence of acknowledgment. No longer could Tubbo allow his throat to be tightened the way being in this room did, choked by the shared misery that set aflame to the chamber. He took his brother's hand, a soft whimper as he pushed out his sole remaining tears, "C'mon, Tommy."


	5. PAGE FIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She leaves the confines of the portal chamber, strained with utter confusion and grief. An extensive analogy about her future as the portal's keeper ensues, after showing insight in her remaining relationships.

The obsidian burned on her back, scorching with pure despair as it left marks on her malnourished skin. The black details now seared in lilac hues, left entirely excited by the melancholic wails they had grown so attached to.

Lugubre tales of the jeweled stone had surrounded it since the beginning of time, never quite describing the fascinating in its rightful glory. The enchanting color palette that rose from the rapid fusion of exposed magma and murky waters was resilient, robust in a way that it allowed only the richest of ores to even attempt to splinter it.

During those days she had spent up in the cold, pent up in Techno's tundra home, were coincidentally the days where she had no longer had to long for warmth. The same apocalyptic warmth that burned patterns in her back, had there turned into a delightful, blissed glow.

A blissed glow that took over her every sense, one that contrasted the cold that encaptured her heart at night so harshly. Not every night had been filled with this freezing loneliness, naturally, but there were always exceptions to the rule. Nights where the love that filled Phil's homecooked meals were simply not enough to fill her heart along with her stomach. Nights where she couldn't help herself but wake Techno, begging for him to make an exception to his rule, and please just hold her for a bit. Techno would never admit it, but he never truly minded working around his boundaries for her.

He cared for her deeply, in a way he hadn't cared for many people before. Holding her stilling body, allowing his own body to engulf hers, urging her to meet his breaths. Deep breath. Hold it. Hold it. Out through your nose. Deep breath.

Another thing he would never admit was that during these sessions, he too felt a meditated calm rush over him. A calm that took his body and mind by devastating storm, one that would still his deepest and cruelest desires. The two had spent nights upon nights in amicable embrace, up in the attic, on the hard wooden floor. And even though the splintering planks felt rough to the touch, neither one of them minded the fragmented needles pinning into their flesh. Grim reminders, they were, of nights where his darkest demons were silenced by her tight embrace. Nights where his thumping chest would remind her aching heart that somewhere his would still be ticking, too.

Techno reminded her a lot of her obscured lover. The way he built towering walls around his every emotion, an impenetrable fortress shielding him from distress. However, Dream's walls were there, they were real. They were designed to be without flaw, to be entirely and utterly impervious. They were painfully physical, in comparison to Technoblade's mental prison.  
  
  


She missed Technoblade, she really did. Every fiber of her being ached to just be held again, up in that freezing attic. However, Technoblade's jail was not the one she had to pierce anymore. She needed a way, any way, to find her way back to her lover.

No visits, is what Sam had told her time after time. Everyday at exactly noon, to be precise. When he either came from his shift or was just about to enter it. As soon as his body entered the bounds of the portal chamber, her tearful eyes would chip away at his consciousness a little more.

Especially now that Tommy had abandoned her, too. And while Sam knew very well that it had been her fault all along, some part of him felt sorry for the lonesome girl. The woman with no home, the woman who loved so deeply it left gashes in her own heart.

Two days, since Tubbo had pulled Tommy away from her asphyxiating hold. Two more days she had spent neglecting her every need, just to fulfill her ultimate promise to a man who hadn't as much as whispered her name. Of course, he would never tell her this. There was no point in shattering a broken heart, no point in defusing an extinguished flame.  
  
  


This time, though, it was different. She no longer sat against the burning obsidian, offering scar upon scar for a love that may or may not be reciprocated.

She was sat against the blackened, dusting stone. Her feet dangling in the salty waters, her fingers curling around small patches of grass. He stood for a bit, watching her.

Her delicate fingers braided themselves into the grass, pulling it from its sodes ever so gently. She opened her hand in front of her body, watching the grass fall through her legs, into the stream. Silent, watching the strands either get engulfed by the water; pulled into the deep, or they would get carried by the tide, drifting upon the gulfs to another land.

Perhaps they would feed the soil of the sea, perhaps they would resurface again to create a new patch of grass, somewhere far away. But, one thing was for sure; to drift upon the tide would ensure a future somewhere new. To drift upon the tide meant to survive.  
  
  


And so it was for her, she would get either pulled with the tide; to a new future, or she would get encaptured by the storming waves, to get pulled under and never resurface again. To serve as a mere, grim, reminder of what happens when the land meets the sea. When two booming forces are introduced to each other, forces that are too different to be the same.

Sam entered the portal chamber, silenced by the emptiness that suddenly seemed to fill it. He had expected it to feel good, to feel reassured when she would finally leave the room. However, for some reason, he felt his throat tightened at the idea of her leaving. At the idea of her giving up.

The uncertainty of what 'giving up' meant for her, is what scared him. The scarring image of the implications of it would not leave his swirling mind, entirely shaken now that he no longer knew whether or not she would be there the next morning. Nor the morning after that.  
  
  


So, Sam did what any good man would do. He let the violet flames take him back to the chamber as soon as his schedule allowed him to, he let the violet flames carry him to her.

His shift had barely ended when he did, when he all-but-stalked over to where he had last seen her by the shore. A good eight hours, and she was still sat there, an empty patch of dirt surrounding her.

Her delicate fingers braided themselves into the soil, scooping it from the ground ever so gently. She opened her hand in front of her body, watching the sand fall through her legs, into the stream. Silent, watching the specks get engulfed by the water; pulled into the deep.

Silent, watching the dirt descend into the sea, to never resurface again.


	6. PAGE SIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam offers her a means of fidelity, a leap into faith. She etches her feelings in her newly-gifted book, desperately hoping for it to reach him well, and perhaps; even dangerously hopeful for one in return.

A gentle hand on her shoulder, but no reaction. His heart broke almost audibly at the crippled image of her. Almost robotic as she kept scooping the sand into the water, as if entirely automatized.

He let himself slowly descend to sit next to her, kicking off his sturdy boots and rolling up his pants before pushing his feet into the chilling water. "Hey."

He hadn't expected her to open her mouth, to say anything to him. However, he had expected for her to at least acknowledge his arrival, to do as much as nod, or even blink. He pulled his hands into his lap, allowing his fingers to nervously caress the book he was holding. "I brought you something."

"You don't have to, but I thought maybe you'd like to write him something?" His gaze was fixated on his own hands, whilst hers was still focused somewhere along the horizon. Her hands stilled for a mere second at his revelation, before continuing her mindless pursuit. More dirt filling the water between them. "It's stupid, and I'm really not supposed to, but I could give it to him."

"You can think about it," he offered her a soft, gentle smile, one he did not get returned. She let her hands fall limply in her lap, at last. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Her hand hovered above his for a bit, almost as if she was contemplating whether or not his touch would burn through her skin. She let it fall onto his, curling her fingers around his with a soft squeeze. A nod, as he pushed the book onto her lap.

"Listen, Punz knows you're here, okay? He's gonna keep the portal room unlocked for you, so you can sleep there if you want." He leaned his shoulder far enough to find hers, immediately feeling her head fall limber from exhaustion. "Please, do me a favor, and sleep inside."

A shaky breath confirmed his wish. "Don't stay out too long, okay?"

"Okay," He whispered into the silence of their vulnerability, leaning over to press a soft kiss to the top of her head. She lifted her temple from his shoulder, allowing him to pull his feet from the water and stand from where they had been sat. He stood silently behind her for a few trembling seconds, caressing her hair with his hand carefully. "I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
  


-

Dear Dream,  
  
  


The pen Sam has given me to write this letter with is shaking in my hand. I'm sorry for the splotches of runny ink, my tears are already ruining this. I keep trying to wipe them away, but they just seem to keep coming. I'm glad they are though, because I don't know what I'd do the second they stop.

I've been sat outside of the entrance for weeks now, I have the scars to show you. I hope, at least, that one day I can show them to you, and that we'll laugh together about the weird shapes they have drawn onto my skin. Every day I hope one of the guards feels bad enough to let me see you, I hope for them to see how my life is in ruins. They deserve to see it, to be fair.

Sam doesn't, though. I don't think, at least. Sam gave me this book, he sat with me by the water for a bit yesterday, when his shift ended. It was nice, he told me how much he thought it would mean for you to hear from me. I hope it does you well, I know it would help me, too.

I miss you so much, Dream, you have no idea. I didn't think it would be this bad, to live without you. I can't do it, I realized that yesterday, sitting by the water with Sam. He told me I had been sitting there for eight hours, completely silent. I don't remember any of it, do you know how scary that is?

I don't know what to do without you. I don't know who I am without you. I miss you so much, you have no idea. I want you to know that I have forgiven you, for everything. That I no longer hold a grudge for the way you had tried to keep me safe, even if it was a stupid fucking way. (Never try that again, I will skin you alive.)

I don't think me and Tommy are on speaking terms anymore, apparently, he built me a hotel, but I couldn't be at the opening. He kept mentioning his exile, and how you were his only friend. I'm not sure what to believe, but he's just a child. His imagination is running wild, and being friends with Connor probably doesn't help his case, either.

It broke me though, to have to miss him, too. You know how much he means to me. He's everything to me, he's the one thing that always kept me grounded. I truly hope I see him again soon, I don't think I can do this without him.

I'll be waiting for you on the **right** side of the wall, okay? I'll always be waiting, no matter what.  
  
  


I hope this letter reaches you well,

Yours, truly.  
  
  


-

He read the entire thing, how could he not. Sam had truly tried to ignore his yearning to abandon his morals, and to be fair, he had been quite firm in the matter.

However, he was the warden. Someone needed to read the letter, to check it for perhaps vital, lethal information or harmful contraband. He realized very well that she was not the type of person to relinquish his faith like that, not when he had done her such an outrageous favor.

Punz offered to read the letter instead of him, adamant about someone knowing what it had said; a firm believer that he, out of all people, would be faultless in detecting any secret codes or whatsoever.

Sam declined politely, moving up the giant, spiraling staircase to grant the letter the light of day. It felt exhaustively morally unjust, but alas, he had no choice in the matter. So, he read it. He absorbed the pure heartbreak from the spaces between her sorrowful words. He let her grief engulf him entirely, and read all about how she was at the end of her wits.

How she felt hopeless and utterly forlorn. How she no longer knew if she had the spirit to continue her demoralizing journey of seemingly endless hurt and misery.

He sat in his office for hours upon end, rereading the same paragraphs until they were burned into his memory. Until he could no longer think of any other words than those that had been inked down in the book he had so wrongfully offered her.

Truly, nobody ever deserved the agony she was in. However, he soon realized, that nobody deserved the unconditional, destroying love she put into the universe. There was not a single being roaming these plains that even earned a sliver of that unentitled devotion and cherishful idolatry that she put out; that devotion and idolatry which she offered for even the most corrupted of souls to take, to make their own.

The letter would reach Dream well, Sam would make sure of it. The sole, remaining question would be whether or not her words would reach him, too. Whether or not he would admit defiance at last, or perhaps he would still not allow himself to miss her, to yearn for her.

Dream was a simple man, he forgot and forgave, he loved and he missed. But that was not how he was with her, with her he realized just how deeply different they were; how deeply different she deserved.


	7. PAGE SEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A good day, at last. She allows herself to smile at her friend's idiocracy, Tommy once again being the reason for her bliss. Sam offers to take her with him, alas, she is not able to abandon the shackles of her longing.

The days were getting longer, both physically but also mentally. They were filled with hopeless waiting and disappointed glances, any time Sam would pass her after clocking out. He would always stop by her when heading home, standing behind her for a few minutes, staring at the crashing waves together. He rarely tried saying anything, most of the time his silence spoke a thousand truths.

No news. No letter.

He would press a kiss to the top of her head, squeeze her shoulder, and be on his way. The portal room had stayed unlocked for a full week, it was no longer needed for him to remind her of the fact. Not that she had made use of it a single time, but it was the selflessness of his intention that warmed her heart time after time. 

She just sat by the water, now. Her hands limp in her lap, no longer pulling at its perimeters. The grass slowly starting sprouting again from the disturbed soil, tiny-teeny roots pushing themselves through the dirt. She sploshed her feet around a little in the water, taking notice of the wrinkles starting to form on her skin. 

Her eyes scoured the horizon, tears prickling at the sight of the sun cloaking itself once again. Partly because of the harsh lights still emitted by it, partly because that meant another day had passed. Another day where she had not heard from her lover, where her tireless adoration was left unanswered. Sam would be meeting her any minute, he always did. The exhaustion would always be written in bold letters on his features, utter fatigue etching itself into his skin. 

He didn't look good, she noticed only the day before that the entire situation was starting to take a toll on him, as well. His air always looked disheveled when he met her, in contrast to its slicked form when he would start his shift. Dark bags under his eyes, blue-ish hue to his skin, the whole ordeal. 

"Hey." She felt his presence hover behind her, knees impossibly close to pressing against her back. Two hands on both of her shoulders, a gentle, simultaneous, squeeze. She craned her neck to meet his eyes, empty as she had expected, however it still stung. She whispered a faint greeting through pursed lips. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Where?" Her voice was croaky, roughened by the simple lack of utilization during the past few weeks. He lifted his right hand to place it down on her head, running his fingers through her hair, offering an amicable smile. "I'm gonna help Tommy with his 'First Lady' suite."

Her lips pulled themselves up into a smile instantaneously, a lively chuckle escaping her lips. Straight away, a sweet, genuine, laugh sounded from Sam, as well, "He insists that a President's suite is 'simply too sexist'."

"Of course he would say that." A hopeful glint found its way into her eyes, glimmering with eager excitement to speak about her friend. To feel content again, for once, no matter how long or shortlived it might end up being. "Let me guess, he took the penthouse and called it 'Big Man HQ'?"

Sam chuckled softly at her insinuation, patting her head again gently before admitting, "He didn't, uh, take the penthouse."

"What? Did he give it to Tubbo?" She smiled, shaking her head as her eyes met the horizon again. "Of course little Tommy would give the penthouse away, too many stairs, I bet."

"Uh-" He couldn't help but stutter and stammer, trying to offer her the truth as tenderly and considerately as he could. "He named it after you, actually."

"Won't let anyone touch it, either." He sniffed nervously, taking apprehensive notice of her silence, hoping so very dearly that he was not the one that sent her into another silent protest. "It's decorated entirely in purple, he didn't know what your favorite color was." He decided to keep speaking, to fill the silence as to not force her into reticence. "I told him I was pretty sure it was pink, but he said he couldn't risk assuming a woman's favorite color was pink."

"And then he went on this whole rant about how blue was just as bad, if not worse, so Tubbo told him to pick yellow." A faint smile was evident in his tone, his hand continuing to run through her hair calmingly. "So, obviously, he told Tubbo that was the stupidest idea he had ever heard, and that he was forbidden from speaking again." She lifted her lips up, too, a fond smile displaying itself to the waves. "So I showed him what color that would make, which, unfortunately, was black."

"I like black." 

"Yeah, I know," His left hand squeezed her shoulder assuringly. "But, he said he would get 'canceled' for racism." Another enamored giggle sounded from beneath him, sentiment getting the better of her. "He asked me what color it would make _without_ the yellow."

"Let me get this right, he asked you what color pink and blue would make?" She lifted her legs from the water, turning sideways to rest them on the shore. Swatting her hands over her legs as to somewhat dry them off, Sam continued, "Purple, yeah."

She offered him her hands with another grin, he gratefully took them, obviously, and pulled her from the floor. "I bet it's the prettiest, entirely purple room I've ever seen."

"I bet it's the only one, right?" He laughed as she nodded, walking side-by-side, away from the portal chamber. "It's an ugly purple, too, it's like the brightest, dullest color you've ever seen."

A dry chuckle as the smile that had been plastered on her face, was slowly dissipating into thin air. Her step started stalling, steadily decreasing the cheerfulness she had felt with the idea of seeing her Tommy again.

A heavy strain, tugging at her legs. An almost magnetic pull connecting her to the chamber that had offered her such inexcusable torture. She didn't want to stay, but her legs soon gave out, not allowing her to set foot any further from the portal than she had been at that exact moment.

She wanted nothing more than to see her friend, her little brother. She didn't want to stay, but right then, she realized that she had no choice in the matter. 

The wailing obsidian and smothered, violet blazes, screamed for her to not even dare to think about abandoning them, abandoning _him_. She sat on her bloodied knees, the splinters of the wooden pathway burying themselves into her skin. Unwilling sobs tore themselves from her throat, frustrated screams as she tried so desperately to claw her way out of the mental confines of the prison. 

Sam stood by, unable to be of any assistance, watching the poor girl get tormented by her own anguish. She cried and cried, pure resentment in her tone. Resentment for not just her situation, but herself, too, in a way. Silent tears started streaming down Sam's face, guilt washing over his every sense.

Some part of him knew it was not going to be this easy, but was hope not the fuel of life? Or, perhaps faith truly was merely a fool's paradise, perhaps utopia was nothing more but a meaningless reverie, a daydream if you will.

He could not give up, for the sake of her, he could not give up _now_. Not now, perhaps never.


End file.
